


Sherlock's Coat

by glasscreature



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cutesy, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2014-08-21
Packaged: 2018-02-14 01:54:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2173650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glasscreature/pseuds/glasscreature
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John share a cold and tired night together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sherlock's Coat

“It’s cold,” John said quietly in the midst of the late evening, each of his breaths fogging the air. Sherlock looked over at him as they walked along the empty street and then looked away.   
“I, um, do you want my coat?” Sherlock asked unsurely. He snuck another look at John before looking back down.  
John looked over, surprised, and his voice caught as he said “…Um…okay. Sherlock’s eyes softened as he once more looked over at John and their eyes met, just for a few seconds. Sherlock slid his coat off his shoulders and handed it to John.  
“Thanks.” A small smile tugged at the edges of his mouth as he put it on, the sleeves just a few inches too long, the tail almost touching the ground. John moved closer to Sherlock so that he could feel the warmth of his breath. They walked together in the warm silence until they reached Baker street. John felt around for his keys in his pockets and stepped into the cozy doorway. He closed the door and they walked up the steps to their apartment.  
They each tiredly walked into their flat, John collapsing in his chair, while Sherlock went into the kitchen and turned on the light.  
“What’re you doing?” John asked tiredly.  
“It’s too cold!” Sherlock complained. He fumbled around in the drawers but finally found the matches. He lit one and then threw the rest of them back in the drawer. He wandered over to the fireplace and put it to the wood, which reluctantly was set aflame. He blew out the match and threw it in the garbage. Seemingly done he reentered the living room and sat down. John closed his eyes.  
“I’m tired.”  
“It’s been a long day. We should probably sleep.”  
“Now that’s a great idea.” Sherlock yawned and curled up in a ball, pulling a throw rug on the floor on himself. John let himself drift off into sleep with the warm coziness of the night as his blanket.


End file.
